


Seeking Safety (Reflection Remix)

by pressdbtwnpages



Category: The OC
Genre: Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-13
Updated: 2007-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A coda to "The Aftermath"; things left unspoken don't always stay that way, especially not when you're Seth Cohen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Safety (Reflection Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Seeking Safety](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2611) by dontyouwaitup. 



> For [](http://community.livejournal.com/remix_redux/profile)[**remix_redux**](http://community.livejournal.com/remix_redux/) 2007\. Originally posted to that community. This story is a re-imagining of [Seeking Safety](http://dontyouwaitup.livejournal.com/1844.html) by [](http://dontyouwaitup.livejournal.com/profile)[**dontyouwaitup**](http://dontyouwaitup.livejournal.com/). Many thanks to my betas [](http://wordsaremyfaith.livejournal.com/profile)[**wordsaremyfaith**](http://wordsaremyfaith.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrew-hernia.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrew_hernia**](http://hebrew-hernia.livejournal.com/).

Seth's been waiting for Ryan for hours. Ryan is coming home, to his for real home with the family that loves him. Seth has all these grand gestures in mind to celebrate. He sat in pajamas in front of the T.V. playing video games for awhile, half-hoping to recreate that first hug, but Ryan's still not back, so Seth makes his way to the pool house stealthily. It turns out there's not really a lot to do in the pool house and there is such thing as invasion of privacy, even if Seth isn't exactly the best at honoring that. So he goes back to the house, grabs a book, and then promptly falls asleep the second he hits Ryan's bed. It smells like Ryan, and Seth dreams of their first night in this room together, drunk and high on the adrenaline of a fight.

He wakes groggily, a combination of the mattress shifting and the sound of heavy objects hitting the ground.

"Mmmrph," he mumbles as his eyes adjust to wakefulness and the dark, the book he intended to read falling sideways off his chest as he sits up. “Ryan,” he says, voice low from sleep and something else that comes from being woken up by Ryan in bed with him.

“Hey,” Ryan whispers back.

Seth reaches for Ryan, hand closing around Ryan’s wrist and tugging.

Seth drags Ryan toward him and hugs him tight. It's awkward, but it works.

Seth buries his head against Ryan’s shoulder. “You suck, man,” he murmurs, breathing in the scent of Ryan-and-sea, two of Seth's favorite things. It's strangely calming. “Like, I’m so mad at you.” He grabs tighter to Ryan, holding him fast, as if the fingers bunched in his shirt will prevent Ryan from slipping away again.

“What’d I do?” Ryan asks.

“I was worried about you, dude. And then you didn’t even come home after they let you out? I’ve been waiting.”

“I had to see Trey.”

“And Marissa.” Seth lets go of Ryan and pushes him away gently. The bitterness in his voice surprises him, sort of.

“She was at the lifeguard stand,” Ryan sighs. Seth stands, faintly annoyed with his friend for putting Marissa in front of everyone else again. He crosses the room in an attempt to work out his Marissa-related rage, pausing by the window.

“Ahh. The Marissa Cooper Lifeguard Stand of Angst.” Seth pretends to stare out the window, but really he's watching Ryan in the dark reflection of the pool house. “Marissa has a lifeguard stand, I have a catamaran, Summer has a punching bag.”

“I have you,” Ryan says, like it’s just a continuation of Seth’s rambling. And what, what is that, even? That is not something you say to people who aren't soft, curvy girls looking up at you with pleading brown eyes, and, oh. Oh.

“I’m your punching bag?” Seth asks, his voice cracking in the middle, a little unsure of what answer he's hoping to hear in response. He quarter-turns towards Ryan, wanting to face him, almost, but not quite.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” Ryan says. “I smell like jail.”

“Right,” Seth says, his voice odd-sounding, even to him.

Ryan hesitates outside of the bathroom. He lets out a shaky breath. “Not my punching bag, Seth,” he says quietly. “My lifeguard stand.”

Ryan goes into the bathroom then and Seth hears the water turn on. The pool house is suddenly oppressive, confining, the darkness thick. He can't, he can't think, he can't breathe. He rushes out of the pool house.

Seth takes a few deep gasping breaths of cool night air and just, tries not to hyperventilate, really.

"I have you... My lifeguard stand."

And what does that mean? Really, what? And who says stuff like... And where does Ryan get off putting that kind of responsibility on someone else? Seth can't be a safe haven! Seth's idea of safe haven is running away.

But Ryan knows all that and he still seems to think that Seth is... safe? Consistent? Something. He sits down at the edge of the pool, needs to think, needs to figure out what Ryan wants from him.

He hasn't really come up with an answer when Ryan pushes the doors to the pool house open. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

Seth doesn’t move, doesn't even know what to say really. He hasn't figured anything out.

Ryan hitches up his pants and sits down next to Seth. “You want to talk about something?”

Seth shrugs. “I always want to talk, Ryan. Mostly about nothing, but, you know. That’s something.”

Under the water, Ryan taps their ankles together, like some sort of upside down fist-bump. “I was scared,” he says finally. “I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be getting out of there anytime soon.”

Seth kicks at the water like scuffing his shoes on the ground, a nervous gesture. Water splashes up and gets his jeans damp. “I bet I was scareder. Like, if that were a word, I would’ve been that.”

“Marissa said you helped, at the hospital.”

Seth feels his face flush and wonders if Ryan can see, because, honestly, he'd helped by pushing the cart. “I pushed the cart, dude, it wasn’t exactly stealth. But I couldn’t like, sit around at home and do nothing. Captain Oats was being very pessimistic. He was like, neigh! All hope is lost! Ryan is never coming home! Neigh! It was depressing.”

“Yeah, well, thanks, man.”

There is a long pause where Seth watches the pool water and thinks vague thoughts about friendship. Possibly there is also a small but very bitter rant about the merits of ocean water over this chlorinated crap and artificiality and how everything suck suck sucks except for Ryan.

“’M sorry,” Ryan says quietly, leaning into Seth's shoulder like it's the only thing holding him up.

“For what?” Seth asks, shy. Nervous.

Ryan shrugs. “For not coming straight home after I got out. I wanted to.”

“You have to do what you have to do, you know? Marissa, and stuff.” Seth touches Ryan’s shoulder tentatively. He hopes it feels reassuring. “You’re home now. It’s just – like, I thought you weren’t going to get out, you know? I didn’t really want to do senior year without you, man. I mean, when you’re a freshman, a shoe full of pee is an inconvenience. When you’re a senior, it’s like… like, a lifetime worth of therapy.”

“Seth, don’t say pee.” Ryan starts to pull away, but Seth won't yield. He tightens the arm around Ryan's shoulders and his other hand grips Ryan’s forearm.

“Wait, don’t…Ryan… wait,” he says quietly, leaning desperately against Ryan. He hasn't figured anything out yet, what Ryan meant. What they mean.

Ryan doesn't say anything, but he slackens against Seth, his breathing steady. Seth matches their breath together and waits.

Ryan's eyes start to get moist. Seth doesn't say a word, just keeps their breathing steady.

“I liked knowing where he was,” Ryan says finally, head tucked in against Seth’s. “When he was in jail, at least I knew he was safe. Sad, or angry, but always safe. Now – I don’t even know where he’s going, or if he was strong enough to leave the hospital, or… anything. He’s my brother.”

“He can hold his own, Ry,” Seth says, reassuring. Maybe this is what Ryan means, about lifeguard stands. Seth's still not sure he's actually any good at being Supportive Guy, but he'll give it a try. For Ryan, he'll give it a try. “He’s not a kid anymore, he doesn’t need you like… I dunno.” Like I need you.

Ryan swallows and raises one hand up to grab at the fabric of Seth’s t-shirt.

“Ryan?” Seth asks. He can't help it, he has to know. Not knowing is driving him crazy and making him ridiculous. More ridiculous.

“Mmm.”

“What’d you mean, before? When you said I was like your lifeguard stand.”

Ryan pushes at Seth, creating space between them. Seth hates it, likes being pressed up next to Ryan, has always liked it, since Day One. “I just… I don’t know, Seth. The catamaran and the anger, they’re where you and Summer feel safe.” He stands up. “The lifeguard stand, that’s where Marissa goes to feel safe.”

And, oh. Okay, sure Seth had an inkling, but nothing compares to the emotional punch of hearing outright that you're someones safe place. Well, not hearing, because it's Ryan, so it's all implication and sideways glances and meaningful chin clenching, but, Seth gets it. Has always gotten it, and, oh. Oh, oh, oh.

Seth scoots away from the edge of the pool and stands up hastily. He just stands there, staring at Ryan.

Ryan won’t meet his eyes. “Hey, man, I’m exhausted,” he says finally. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Okay,” Seth says softly, slowly.

Ryan holds out his hand and Seth catches him pulling him into a tight, decidedly un-masculine hug. Their bodies are pressed close and it feels like a restoration of balance, somehow. “Seth,” Ryan warns. His rapid heartbeat undercutting the edge in his voice.

Seth presses his face against Ryan’s neck. It's like their first hug, when they barely knew each other. It kind of feels like they barely know each other again, but in an okay, trustworthy way. He’s breathing quickly and should step away, but Ryan's hands come up to rest on his hips.

“I’m your safe place,” Seth mumbles against Ryan’s shoulder. It's ironic, because right now everything between them feels dangerous.

“Something like that,” Ryan says.

They are on a precipice and one or the other of them is going to push them over.

Seth turns his head, pressing his open mouth to Ryan’s pulse point, and Seth's brain shuts off.

There is a graze of teeth, a widening of eyes, a brush of tongue. Ryan tenses and jerks away, sending Seth stumbling backwards.

“God, sorry,” Seth says, blushing furiously, hands shaking. “That was - " not supposed to happen for real " – that was stupid.”

“Yeah, Seth!” Ryan shouts, then lowers his voice. “Yeah, it was.” He looks angry, scared, and Seth feels like an asshole, like he's just taken away Ryan's safe place.

Seth takes an ungainly step backwards, blinking rapidly. “I’m just – I. I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, words falling over each other as he turns and hurries toward the house. He jerks the door open and disappears into the darkness of the kitchen, moving rapidly through the darkened house. He wants to run, hide, disappear forever. But it's Ryan, so it's okay. Or it will be if it's not right now. They're best friends, brothers, who, okay, right now that's a less than comforting thought, but it's not like Seth hasn't thought about Ryan as something other than that sort of all along.

And, well, there that is, something Seth's spent the last two years wondering about, wanting, and now they can move on.


End file.
